“The boys will be here for supper,” Kate said.
Abigail wondered about the twinkle in Patrick’s eyes at this news. She wouldn’t ask, of course. Kate and Mattie, along with Miranda and Kate’s daughter-in-law, Bernice, whom she’d just met, were busy preparing food—a lot of food.
Perhaps the boys were teens, with very healthy appetites? She’d heard that teenaged boys ate their weight in food every day. Of course, she’d also heard the same about men.
Abigail realized she was a bit of an odd duck, having grown up without any real male influences in her life.
Those thoughts fled as she made a salad, chopped veggies, and did whatever needed doing. When it was time for supper, she carried a large bowl of steamed carrots into the dining room. Amid the chatter of people coming to the table, she heard the door slam and Patrick’s teasing voice.
“Wouldn’t you just guess they’d arrive too late to pitch in?”
“They can pitch-in with the clean-up crew,” Gerald said.
“Pitch in?” Kate laughed. “I think they are the clean-up crew!”
Abigail grinned at the banter.
“And hello to you, too, parents! Nice to see our presence is appreciated.”
“And there are the old men, standing next to their Bernice, imaginary halos hovering above their heads. I say they should get to be clean-up crew, too.”
Those had not been the voices of teens. Abigail looked up, the large bowl still in hand, and took in the newcomers.
They both resemble Patrick. Though one had blond hair, the other light brown, they were similar not only in their facial features—she thought they were far too handsome by half—but in their height. Abigail didn’t need to stand next to them to know she would just barely reach their shoulders. She didn’t think they were twins because she’d been given to understand that Bernice’s husbands were often referred to as the twins.
Then, as one, both men caught sight of her. The one with the brown hair and chocolate eyes seemed as impacted as she. When, helpless to resist, she looked at the blond man—and my, what light blue eyes he had—a second wave of…of something hit her.
“Gentlemen, say hello to Abigail Parker. Turns out she’s a great-granddaughter to Terrence, Jeremy, and Phyllis Parker-Jones. Abigail, may I present my youngest sons, Carson and Michael. Carson is now the head of Benedict Oil and Minerals, and Michael is a professor of English at Gilson University.”
Each man had nodded at his name as Patrick introduced him. Then Carson Benedict approached. Someone took the dish of carrots from her hands. Not knowing what else to do, she extended her arm in greeting. The jolt of contact was nearly electrical. Then Michael Benedict flanked his brother.
“How do you do?”
“Much better now, Miss Parker.” Carson shook her hand and then gave her hand over to his brother.
“Yes, much better.” Michael Benedict ran his thumb over the back of her hand.
Then both men slowly smiled, and Abigail had the sense she’d just stepped off a cliff.
Oh my. Now that’s what I call a cock. Her attention was fixed on Carson’s penis, and while she felt her face heat, she could not look away.
“Like what you see, baby?”
She met his gaze. Her blush deepened, but she brazened it out. “I do, indeed.” And then, feeling completely bold, she licked her lips. There were plenty of things she’d read about, sexual things that men and women did to and with each other that she’d never tried. Some, at the time, she’d even thought repulsive.
Here and now she hungered for those same things—all of those things—with a singular appetite. And a fussy one. Only Carson and Michael Benedict would do.
Carson flashed a wicked grin, and then he took her hand and drew her into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around her and covered her mouth with his own.
His heat and his strength pressed against her skin warmed her, excited her, and made her arousal soar. She wrapped her arms around his neck, gently rubbed her breasts against his chest, and groaned at the pleasure that flooded her. The sensation of his hot, hard erection pressed against her flesh made her incredibly wet.
Abigail heard the sound of more clothing hitting the floor, and then she felt Michael’s naked body behind her, a solid presence, as he nuzzled her neck once more.
Carson broke their kiss, and Michael lifted her into his arms. Abigail gasped with the suddenness of the motion. Michael’s tender smile touched her heart. He knelt on the bed with her in his arms and then laid her down. She registered, briefly, that it was a fresh, clean sheet beneath her. Carson must have been busy before we got home. Then her mind decided that it would be far better to feel than to think.
She reached up and drew Michael down. His lips devoured hers. A drawer opened then closed, and the bed dipped. But Abigail clung to Michael Benedict’s kiss. What was it about tasting one man right after the other that made this act of kissing so powerful and so wonderful?
She didn’t know or care. She just wanted more.
Michael eased back and then stroked her lips with his finger. “I want you more than my next breath. And I’ll have you. But it’s important to me that Carson is first.”
Abigail searched his gaze and saw only hunger for her. “Because he’s the oldest?”
“Yes. You understand the way it is with us?”
In a way, she did. How do you avoid miscues and petty jealousy? Partly, she imagined, by having a tradition to follow.
This was clearly one of the Benedicts’ traditions. “I’ll need you, too.”
“Oh, you’ll have me.” He gave her a sweet kiss then eased back, stretched out, and looked like he was about to enjoy himself immensely.
Carson took that moment to run his hands up her legs, to separate them. That drew her attention. Her gaze went from his face to his cock, his wonderful, erect, and now condom-covered cock.
“I have to be inside you, baby. Are you ready for me?”
Abigail knew she was but didn’t answer. She just sent him what she hoped was a sexy smile and raised her arms in welcome.
Carson crawled up her body between her open thighs, his gaze fixed on hers. “I can smell your sexy juices. You want me, woman.”
She’d never been one to talk dirty, but Carson Benedict seemed to affect her that way. Instead of fighting the urge, she surrendered to it, and to him. “Yes. Please, Carson. Fuck me.”
The sensation of him coming down to her, of his chest on hers and his cock brushing over and then through her moist folds as it sought entrance to her body made her shiver with need. She tilted her hips up, needing to help. The moment she felt him begin to enter her body, she pushed back, using her hips and legs to counter his thrust.
Carson’s eyes widened, likely because her bold action brought him fully into her body. Her tunnel stretched, and the slight burning made her hum in pleasure. Carson wrenched control back from her, withdrew from her pussy slightly, and then pushed in once more. This time, with his slow and steady thrust, he seated himself inside her to the hilt.
“You feel so fucking good.” He shivered, and Abigail realized he was about to lose control. “Wrap yourself around me, baby, and hold on.”